Nothing Is As It Seems
by Silver eyed lass
Summary: ANOTHER TENTH WALKER YAYY Hema has lived in the Old Forest all her life, but the day Gandalf comes to ask Tom Bombadil to look for hobbits in the forest, is the day your life changes. Like many tenth walkers before her, she finds adventure, and love (SO predictable gosh find something original already) Aragorn/OC the romance is very slow.


**I know I have bad grammar, and probably spelling. Forgive any mistakes you find and feel free to alert me to them. Just don't be nasty, nasty is not necessary. Nasty makes me cry alone at night with no one to make me feel better. Don't make me cry alone at night. I probably have bad character portrayal to (cough, Tom Bombadil, cough)  
**

**italics is thoughts by the way **

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The trees creaked around Hema. Whispering between themselves. The branches shifted towards her, tugging at some clothing here, a lock of dark hair there. All in welcome, the trees of the old forest might dissuade the presence of others, but to them she was an old friend.

"Grey man in the forest!" they whispered "He looks for Tom Bombadil, help for the hobbits he says, ring, evil ring. Make him leave, we don't like people in our forest. They burn and chop, and kill their own. We don't want him here!"

She smiled "I'm people aren't I?" the response was almost instantaneous, and a chorus of "No" reached her, _what am I then, do I belong to any species at all_?

Hema made her way to Tom Bombadil's, the grey man seemed the talk of the forest. All the animals seemed to of heard it from the trees too. As she arrived at the door to the cabin Hema heard voices,

"...Coming through here in a month or so, I expect they will need help." _that must be the grey man_. She thought. Then there was another voice, this one seemed to be less merry than usual, as she knew, Tom talked in rhyme, or sang, almost always, but not now. _Is the Grey Man's business really so serious?_

"Tom shall help all he can, but he is afraid he can't go much past the barrow downs." He needs Tom's help? Why? The farthest Hema herself had ever been was Bree. Never actually entered it, just seen it from the distance. She knew enough of people from the trees, they say that people are evil. From the stories Hema had heard from them she was inclined to agree. (she didn't know where they got the stories from seeing as they have quite limited mobility, but hey,who was she to question them.) Though in the stories Goldberry told her, not all of them are bad. She and Tom tell Hema stories, of elves and heroes. Of the one ring, and Sauron, actually he is not that good of an example for non-evil humans but the story was a little more focused on Isildur so it's OK. In one dusty corner of Toms cabin, he has a bookshelf full of books. Goldberry taught the child to read when she was little. Hema filled her days with reading, he had all types of books. History books, books on different plants and their uses, her favorites were the ones about faraway places. Though living in the Old forest was not exactly a sheltered childhood, she had always wanted to travel to the places in her books. Hema had nothing but the word of the trees, her friends, and the books, but she knew that people would not all take kindly to her, they are weary of strangers these days. Probably being a shape shifter would not help with the trust issues, but there is not much she could do about that.

When Hema was little she lived with Tom and Goldberry, they took care of her like parents. They taught her how to survive in the world, even though she never went that far from the forest. Looking back Hema guessed they had some foresight. Sadly surviving this world included teaching her how to fight. Most of the time she fought in animal form, but Tom thought it was a good idea to learn a weapon in human form. Hema was utterly useless at the sword, she could shoot a bow well enough, but not on par with elves. Knives had a tendency to fly out of her hand and become embedded in something important, Hema's thigh for instance. Finally in a fit of desperation Tom dug into one of the infinite dusty corners of his cabin to find his last hope. A boe staff. This she had success with. It had no sharp edges so it made killing your enemies harder, but it also made hurting yourself harder, so she couldn't complain that much. The only time Hema had used it in real combat she was thirteen. It was when a group of wights wandered out of the Barrow Downs. Tom did most the work but she killed two of them. After that Hema left to live on her own in the forest, Its not that big of a forest so she saw one or both of Tom and Goldberry every once and awhile, and one never got lonely when surrounded by chatty trees and animals.

They were talking again, too soft for her to hear. She could change and sneak in to listen. _Yes that seemed a good idea_. Hema moved behind a bush and began to change, deciding a small animal would be best, maybe a squirrel. It started with her hair, teeth, and eyes. Hema's eyes turned a beady black, her hair became short and started change from its usual brown into a grey, and spread to cover her whole body. Lastly were Hema's teeth, which began to sharpen and push against her lips like a rodent. All this happened in less than a second, and soon she was a squirrel.

Hema had to find my way out of her cloths, which sadly don't change with her. After managing to spend five minutes stuck in her left pant leg she found her way out her right sleeve. She climbed through an open window into the cabin, and saw Tom and another man sitting in there, At the table that he and Goldberry normally eat. She ran from the window down under tom's chair.

Tom was dressed in his usual blue tunic. The other man had been well named by the inhabitants of the forest. He was wearing an abundance of grey. A long grey robe which hid his shoes, a hat, also grey, which tapered to a point at the top. Its wide brim hid his face, down to his eyes, and a crooked nose. The rest of his face was covered by a long grey beard. He was speaking, his voice seemed old and wise, but, like Tom's, had a young and energetic tone to it.

"...someone to meet them at Bree if I myself is unable. All I ask is that you lead them to the road if they happen to become lost in this forest ."

"Tom shall help you and you're hobbits Gandalf." Tom answered, he paused chuckled softly, "How 'bout you little one?" She felt a hand close around her, lifting her off the floor. The hand lifted Hema until she was eye level with Tom and the man he called Gandalf. The latter's eyebrows shot up in surprise at me, or the fact that Tom was asking a squirrel for help. She didn't really know.

"How did you know I was there Tom?" Gandalf's eyebrows rose even farther and disappeared under the brim of his hat. This, she assumed, was because of the sound of her voice coming from a squirrel.

"You may be a squirrel, but you can't fool Tom. Tom has known you since you were-" He made a gesture with his hands. "-This big." he looked from his hands, which were the size of a baby, to Hema, who as a squirrel was quite a bit smaller.

"I think you've shrunk!" Gandalf by now was looking very confused, and his very bushy eyebrows rose to an impossible height, this lead her to believe he was a wizard because it must take sorcery to raise one's eyebrows that much.

"Mr. Bombadil is there a reason that a talking squirrel is privy to our conversation?" Tom seemed to realize that he was with a guest, and talking to what looked like a squirrel. May be it a squirrel that can talk.

"why don't you change back, and come talk with me and Mr. Gandalf? He has a very interesting story to tell you." he put Hema on the floor and she scampered out the door. _Ooh goody she _loved_ stories._

Hema returned to the pile of clothes that she had left earlier. She normally spent most of her time in one of her various animal forms, saving her the trouble of having to change into and out of her clothing. After a couple of years of trying to deal with shoes and (ahem) underthings, Hema decided just not to wear them. Sadly after she began to grow underthings became a necessity, so now she just ignored her shoes. Pulling her (ahem) underthings, then performing all the hopping around necessary to don her leggings, pulling on her shirt (more like a tunic) and adding a belt for no apparent reason.

Making my way back to the cabin, she heard voices again. Isn't it nice that people talk about you when you're not there?

"...could help you. If she is willing." Tom's voice wandered to her from the open window.

"Who is she Tom, What is she? You tell me shifts shapes, yet unlike Beorn she can use any shape she wishes. Are you sure she is trustworthy?" Came Gandalf's voice.

"Tom and Goldberry have raised Hama since before she could walk, she is like our daughter, and worth all the trust in the world." Hema had never heard Tom say anything vaguely as father like as that, it was...nice.

After that Hema walked in, she liked to interrupt things.

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